Narcissus
by Tollpatsch
Summary: "I am a woman of indulgence. And wild fantasies. Don't forget the fantasies," Terumi warned him seriously. Ryouta nodded. It was hard to take her seriously. KISEXOC
1. I need counselling

**Narcissus**

_by Tollpatsch_

* * *

_SPLAT!_

She winced. "That's nasty."

Mikazuki Terumi had a sudden epiphany when a pigeon did a kamikaze dive into the head of a speeding train. The bloodied grey mass of feathers bounced off the metal and landed an uncomfortable distance near her shiny school loafers.

Apparently, no one saw the spectacle-no, the _Tragedy_ happen except for her. And she couldn't _un-see_ what she just saw, nor erase the blasted thing from her memory like she could do with movie clips on a computer.

She grimaced at the sight. Gross.

Cautiously stepping over the once…lively creature, she alighted the (murderous) train quickly, as the screams and gasps of the poor people (her fellow school mates, judging by their sad grey uniforms) behind her took notice of the grotesque tragedy lying on the platform.

So that was how birds died. She'd always wondered.

* * *

**One: I need counselling**

Terumi had many opinions on many things around her and the mysteries of the world. She was concerned with a number of them; actually (like how she rocked the homeless look in the mornings), the number one thing occupying her mind currently was the perpetual mass of grey blazers, grey pants and grey skirts. It was everywhere, and she could imagine that if _sadness_ were royally presented with a certain colour it would be that disgusting shade of—

Whoops getting off track there.

(_still can't understand how some people look good in the rags, but apparently being outrageously attractive helps_)

She saw her reflection through some glass windows as she passed by. And she did not like what she saw.

FREEZE, _SISTA_.

Oh _god_.

Her skirt wasn't buttoned up.

Like, the button didn't go through the little hole it was meant to go through and it hung there on the fabric, a little bit lonely.

Mr Button was never meant to be lonely. She needed to find him a quick fix to this dysfunctional marriage…

_Need to do it up. NOW._

…so where was the call girl when she needed her?

Terumi slapped herself back to reality-an awkward jerking of her arm-she _really_ needed to tame her wild imagination, which surfaced at the _most inappropriate _of times.

_I still need to save whatever's left of my dignity because I'm wearing hot pink undies today. _

_Bad choice, you stupid girl!_ Ah, the voice of reason. Welcome back after a sudden disappearance.

_But-but they're my favourite pink panties. _The voice of idiocy. Now, when you start arguing with yourself, you've reached the point of no return no matter what the psychologist says.

Pausing in front of her classroom door, she reached behind her where that lonely button sat—

The door slid open. She stopped breathing.

_Oh shit._

Wide green eyes met the powerful stare of _The Teacher_.

"Mikazuki," he frowned. He frowned upon her tiny _existence._ That evil man.

"I'm…terribly sorry, Takeuchi-sensei," she said, with as much sincerity as a stick. A very surprised stick. Her hand hovered over the lonely button, unsure of whether to move it to a less compromising position or to use her non-existent flexibility and somehow join it up…stick it in the hole.

_You could stick lots of things in a hole. _

If she could, Terumi would have hit herself.

The teacher (a chubby man who needed a shave) gave her _that_ stare. That cold stare that her mum always gave her when she was caught raiding the fridge and the cupboards before dinner, or when she said something socially inappropriate in public therefore making her and her family a public embarrassment.

It was a common occurrence, being a disappointment.

"Mikazuki. It's halfway through second period. You've been late three times this week, and I know that, even though I'm not your homeroom teacher," he drawled.

Yeah, THAT stare made her uncomfortable. Just a little bit.

He continued. "You are a repeat offender."

No. NO. He was _NOT_ going to continue and give her a detention, according to his normal speech pattern. She saw it happen to other unfortunates, but it will _not_ happen to her.

Detention equalled a call to her mother. Death awaited those that defied that beast.

Terumi blurted out the first reason that came to her mind. "It was an act of God."

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah. Destiny. Tragic thing at the train station." Time to roll with it.

The ball stopped rolling, but with a vicious mental kick she forced it to keep going again.

Her right hand joined her left hand behind her back like two best friends. The right best friend took the skin on the left best friend and bitch pinched her for kicks.

There was moisture coming into her eyes! Thank god for pain receptors!

A sniffle, and _voila_, tears threatened to spill. The waterworks trick always worked on male teachers (so did the awkward 'I have my period' trick), and she would milk the situation for all it was worth.

"…And, it was so sudden this morning…I was just-just standing there at the platform when suddenly _splat_ and blood everywhere and the train shot by," she scrunched up her face, fear in every movement as if recalling a nightmare. "Living after that was so hard."

To her amazement, the teacher _bought_ it. Kind of. Maybe.

"…Learning Japanese history helps me cope," she added for more effect. This teacher was a Japanese history teacher, so saying she liked the subject might help.

"Really." He stared down at her.

"Talking about it makes me stressed, Sensei."

The large man crossed his arms, not ruffled by her (fake) tears at all. He moved his gaze to something behind her.

"Kise, you've come back right in time. I need you to do something."

Terumi nearly died.

_Kise Ryouta_ was standing behind her. _Behind_ her, where she was desperately trying to cover up her wardrobe malfunction.

(hot pink undies)

She gulped. _He wouldn't notice, right?_

"What is it, Coach?" Kaijou's most popular boy responded.

"Escort Mikazuki to the school counsellor. Go and come back," droned Takeuchi Genta, Coach of Kaijou's well-known basketball team and Japanese History teacher.

Her feeble heart soared. Freedom! After ditching the super good-looking specimen of man standing behind her, she could have _freedom!_

Not that she wanted to ditch Kise Ryouta (oh _hell no_) but Terumi had priorities that, sadly, superseded her need to bask in the presence of beauty.

Like sleep. And freedom. And the half eaten tuna sandwich in her bag that was meant for lunch but was begging to be eaten with that_-_insert suggestive tone- _dishevelled appearance._

"E-excuse me, Sensei," she dramatically sniffed, as if torn at the thought of missing out on school. She walked backwards, carefully avoiding brushing against the male equivalent to a blonde bombshell.

She stopped her self from fleeing too fast.

What Takeuchi-sensei called out as she left sent foreboding shivers down her spine.

"I heard community service also helps with your problem!"

Tsk.

So he hadn't bought it, after all.

.

"Mikazuki-san? We're supposed to turn left just then for the school counsellor," the ever benevolent boy said.

Terumi looked at the floor darkly.

Ryouta grinned. She sensed that he sensed that she knew he knew what the real problem was and that he wasn't arriving to the point directly on purpose.

He held up Mr Button, who had fallen onto the floor.

"…Need a safety pin?"

"NO!"

* * *

That's it. That. Was. The. LAST. STRAW.

She couldn't show her face around Kise Ryouta again. Not that he'd remember her face, _oh no_ that wasn't what he would see whenever they would cross paths in the future, he would definitely recall her jerky waddle and hot pink underwear.

Definitely making sure that they would _never _cross paths again.

Oh yes, she was that insane girl who cried (fake, but he wouldn't know the truth) and whose skirt was falling off and needed psychological help. Great first impression.

Drats, she ruined whatever meagre chances she had with him. Actually, she had ruined her image in front of her classmates. Now they'll think she was insane, traumatised cry baby.

Whoops. _I promised Mum that I would be a good girl in high school. _

"Whatever," she mumbled. _If I had to categorise myself in a survey and the options were between 'Naughty' or 'Nice', I'd be _naughty.

That kind of survey would be terribly indecent.

She rolled over onto her belly, avoiding sunlight and embracing the shade underneath the school's water tank. Lounging on the roof was a sure fire way to skip classes for the rest of the day.

_Maybe I'll show my face after lunch, if I feel like it. _

"Playing hooky for the rest of the day?" Someone had silently opened the door and hovered near her with an air of authority.

Terumi blinked away the brightness, trying to see past the shadowed face.

"Ah. Takeuchi-sensei. Good morning."

He folded his arms. "It's already the end of the day."

She stared blankly, not computing the information.

"School ended ten minutes ago—_blahblahblah_." Nothing else was heard as Terumi shook herself out of her sluggish processing.

_Ten minutes ago? _

She'd missed the whole day already? Who said 'time flies when you're having fun', that statement was totally incorrect…she'd been bored out of her mind. And then she closed her eyes because there was a nice breeze…

Comforting blackness. A long nap.

So she'd slept through the day.

"…and that's why you'll be cleaning out the clubroom this afternoon," Takeuchi-sensei sounded triumphant.

Her blank eyes widened in realisation, and she stood up in a hurry to protest his unfair decision.

It took two words to shut her up for good.

"Fractional truancy."

Terumi trudged behind the victorious basketball coach. When would this bad luck end?

.

.

.

"You're the coach of a sport's club, Sensei?"

Genta puffed out his chest proudly as he walked her back to the 'clubroom', where all important game recordings and materials were. Her job was to arrange the 'important' things in the room in the correct order, and get rid of all the dust.

"That's right. Our team is one of the best high school teams in Japan!"

"That's really cool." She was genuinely surprised that her school had such a good team.

"I know we'll do well again this year at Inter-High…that's the main basketball competition for this summer," Genta mused aloud, mostly to himself. He stopped in front of an obscure room to slide open the door.

Basketball. _A bit of a disappointment._

"_Basktetball?_ Eeeeeeeh?" she grumbled rather loudly.

She liked SOCCER better, and she liked it so much the word had to be in capitals. She loved the end of a soccer match, when team basked in victory and the other accepted defeat graciously and everyone was happy.

Her favourite part was when the players threw off their shirts and did half-naked happy laps around the arena field. Happy laps were happy laps because they made her happy.

However, if anyone cared enough to ask her why she liked soccer, she would say that the scoring a goal in the last seconds of the game was inspirational.

(Soccer players were an inspiration in itself)

"That's a sport for sissies," she said to the bunch of unfamiliar faces in the room. A group of students were watching a basketball game via a data projector.

Not anymore, obviously, because everyone was looking at her. Some were shocked, one looked annoyed, one (handsome) guy seemed like he was analysing her from head to toe and estimating her three sizes and another (handsome) guy looked way too familiar with that beautifully constructed face.

She could never forget Kise Ryouta's face. It was memorable.

"Um…Sensei. I thought the room I'm cleaning would be you know…_empty_," she backed away, ready to run for her life.

Genta gave her a wry look as he stepped into the nest of vipers that could potentially strike her down and kill her by insulting their sport.

"Welcome to the basketball clubroom. These boys here…are our _sissy _regulars."

What was left of Terumi's image disintegrated into dust and floated away.

Far, far away.

* * *

**つづく**

* * *

**end notes**

_HI EVERYONE. So while my lovely readers await the complete revision and new chapters of Orange Days, I decided to put up a fun story. A humorous story with lots of dirty jokes, innuendos and embarrassing situations that will hopefully bring a smile to your face. _

_Much love,_

_**Tollpatsch**_


	2. Less space more talk

**Narcissus**

_by Tollpatsch_

* * *

"Welcome to the basketball clubroom. These boys here…are our _sissy _regulars."

Silence.

Sensing her impending doom, Terumi tried to call out her hidden ability: _Instant camouflage!_

Alas, it remained hidden and a disappointment. Though she could still mentally and spiritually become one with the furniture in the room. There was always that possibility.

Genta coughed to get her attention back. "Now, get one of those _sissies_ to explain the sorting process while I go get a coffee."

The door slid shut obnoxiously as that terrible man of a teacher abandoned her in enemy territory.

She vowed to fail her Japanese History exams on purpose to spite him.

Suddenly, a very energetic (sissy) student jumped up to his feet like his chair was on fire.

"We'(l)e not sissies!" he protested very loudly, based on the winces on everyone's faces.

"Don't _yell_, Hayakawa!" a stern looking guy reprimanded the loud complainer, who reminded her of her neighbour's excitable labra-doodle.

There was only one way to calm Pochi the labra-doodle.

Terumi held her hands up in an _I-surrender_ position, cautiously walking sideways (without the grace of the crab, which had mastered the sideways walk) towards a potted plant she could mentally merge with. It was very green.

And healthy, by how…_erect _it was.

"What are you talking about, my dear fellow?" she carefully raised an eyebrow at him. "Of course, basketball is a wonderful sport," she paused as she reverse parked herself in the space between the plant and a large shelf. It was…a tight fit.

"Lots of running balls and…bouncing players." Her slightly muffled voice addressed them all.

She couldn't help it. She had verbal dyslexia at the most inappropriate of times.

According to her ikemen radar, she sensed Ryouta try to cover up a small smile by coughing.

"I mean…running players and bouncing balls—no, lots of balls and boys…I—this is just making the whole thing a lot worse, so I'll just stop talking now." Terumi couldn't bear to see their reaction to her officially making herself an embarrassment of herself, so she stared at the bottom corner of the shelf she was pressing herself against.

Quiet murmuring from the other side, and basketball jargon was thrown around as Terumi remained very, very quiet and crammed herself in the small space even further to diminish her presence. It was gathering dust. And something was shoved between the wall and the back of the shelf.

(The real reason why their attention was taken away was because of a really good play made by some basketball guy on the screen, and that called for analysing-time.)

Just like how basketball players were attracted to basketball like bees and honey, Terumi was attracted to suspicious looking objects that might be interesting.

_It_ was gathering dust, that _something_ shoved between the wall and the back of the shelf.

_Closer_. Almost there!

She squinted, trying to decipher what the buried treasure could be. Money? Gold? Secret photos? Love letters?

Her hand reached for the object, snagging a corner with her fingers and bringing it up to her face. She tried not to sneeze from the dust mites attacking her poor face.

"Oh _my_," her tone of voice caught the attention of everyone in the room again.

"Oh…_wow_. This is-_gosh_-so shocking. Beyond shocking. I can't believe it."

They tried to see what she was looking at, but fern leaves obscured it.

"I mean, I _can_ believe it because I found this picture book here. Never mind."

A hand broke free of the foliage, and it was…!

…Horikita Mai! On a basketball court! Almost naked, save for those _basketballs._

There was also, a cheeky note in the corner in black marker: _Kaijou favourite. MWA!_

"That girl isn't wea(l)ring any c(r)othes!"

"Mikazuki-san! You shouldn't flip through stuff like that!" Ryouta waved his hands around, trying to stop her from across the room.

Mikazuki Terumi was not a woman that could be _stopped_. Once she started, she would not just STOP. She would keep going, no matter the consequence.

"It's okay. I have an older brother," she announced, as if it could excuse her from everything.

She would roll with it.

"The limited edition of Horikita Mai's court shots…it's—this is…" the other handsome guy pointed at the magazine in her hands.

…_Positively scandalous. _

As demonstrated by how the stern looking one flushed bright red and buried his face in his hands. He was strangely…not vocal.

Terumi grinned suggestively from her squished position between an indoor plant and a large shelf that housed sinful secrets. "I take everything back. You lot are very manly. True men."

"But, but that's not ours!" Moriyama objected.

Ryouta decided to add his two cents of deduction. "It must have been from the players that graduated already, definitely."

"I have neve(l) seen anything (r)ike this in my (r)ife!"

"…Seriously, Hayakawa?"

"Never, never in your…life?"

Their half-assed excuses fell on deaf ears as Terumi casually leafed through the picture book, wondering which the bare lady had: a Brazilian laser or waxing.

* * *

**Two: Less space more talk **

She had asked for the captain to explain to her the sorting process of the game recordings and books (minus certain picture books). However, the upperclassman introduced to her by the ever-helpful Kise-kun as Kasamatsu-senpai (Kise: _This is our captain!)_ seemed to be very fascinated by the carpet, because he feebly re-allocated the duties to his blonde spokesman as he searched for microscopic bacteria in the weaving.

Another upperclassman, a Moriyama-senpai (Kise: _But if it gets tough remembering everyone's names, it's okay just to call them 'senpai'_) volunteered enthusiastically but was brutally shot down by the captain.

'Kay then. So the stern Kasamatsu-senpai had a split personality. Terumi wasn't one to judge weird people.

_Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know which Turkish delight you'd get. _

(…hate Turkish delights)

"To start off, maybe you should…un-cram yourself? That looks really uncomfortable."

Oh, you thoughtful, angel-faced man.

She shuffled out awkwardly, like a penguin. Ryouta politely smiled, pretending he didn't see her trip over nothing and nearly plant her face onto the floor.

"Now, we put these pile of tapes with the green label in alphabetical order. And those recent ones with white labels in order of schools."

"Okay." That workload…she didn't want even go through them. There were_ so many._

Simultaneously and totally coincidentally to signal impending frustration (that's just Terumi, because the sexy hair thing was a modelling habit—a natural bonus to the shining _being _that was Kise Ryouta), both people ran a hand through their hair.

However, she didn't emit any enticing pheromones like Ryouta. Nor did the hair goddess bless her hair to be straight and silky. _Her_ boring brown hair curled up a little at the ends because of the stupid humidity. She also forgot to brush it this morning.

It must be the humidity.

Her hand got stuck at a tangled bit, and it took some effort to get it through.

_This isn't FAIR._

She cast an odd look at Ryouta, feeling like she lost a battle.

.

.

.

_Videos from last year until now: Rakuzan, Yousen, Shuutoku, Touou are in the top priority list and go…here._

She lined the DVDs with the red markings for 'most important consideration' in the neatest line ever seen in the history of lining up DVDs. Now, for the other schools in the area…

"Excuse me!" came a _very _loud whisper. It couldn't even be called a whisper, it stretched the limits of whispering and if Hayakawa-senpai was trying to whisper, wasn't he defeating the purpose of whispering in the first place?

Terumi shot him her stare of boredom. Screw vertical hierarchies, screw _R-E-S-PECT_! (She could hear Aretha Franklin belting out that English chorus if she had a continuous soundtrack to her train of thought)

_Like, how cool would it be to have music in the background to my super exciting life to make it even more dramatic. _

"What is the matter, senpai."

That Hayakawa dude pointed at her backside. Like, seriously directed his eyes to her wazoo.

That. Was. NOT. Cool.

"Why a(l)e you wea(l)ing a safety pin!" Hayakawa prattled.

Terumi bristled. That subject was still a raw wound!

Ryouta's stifled chuckling didn't help at all. Especially since his laughter sounded…really _nice_.

No, no, _focus_.

Turning around to face those heartless people with a face as pink as her undies, she directed her dirtiest glare at them, hissing out a reply.

"It's a new fashion fad. You see, I was going for the rough and tough look (the button fell off) and I ripped my skirt on the way to school because I was fighting evil (Takeuchi-sensei)."

She could see the world 'gullible' imprinted on Hayakawa's forehead. "F-fighting evil?"

Terumi looked meaningfully into the distance, as if recalling her deeds of heroism. "This safety pin was a token for my efforts by the elven folk (Kise Ryouta) that live in our lockers."

He really believed her: hook, line and sinker. Poor guy.

"(L)ea(r)(r)y? They (r)ive there?"

"Yes. The elves are the size of my middle finger. See?" She flipped him the bird.

(guilt rose up but she sealed it all up with self-satisfaction)

It was fully justified.

"…And _you_, that guy with the silky sparkling blonde hair that I'm _not_ jealous of—STOP. LAUGHING."

.

Most of the conversation between the sissy players went over her head. There was too much basketball jargon for Terumi to understand.

"So we should have Kasamatsu dribble to clear the wing."

"Yeah, Moriyama. You and Kobori can set up a screen under the basket—"

"So I'll just shoot once you pass it to me?"

"Don't cut me off, Kise!"

"Hehe, sorry senpai! Forgive me?" Ryouta winked at his captain, edging closer.

Kasamatsu could feel his disgust rising. "That's gross! Get away from me!"

_BAM._

"…that hurt, senpaaaai," he whined, nursing his shoulder dramatically. "My fans would cry if they saw me getting hit."

"Get. Used. To. It."

.

Coach was on a really long coffee break.

Ryouta had half the mind to organise a search and rescue team for the man, but Coach Takeuchi's coffee breaks were always really long, as he had observed in his first week in the club.

Their tactics discussion had ended, and dissipated into broken conversations between members.

Ryouta leaned back in his chair, exhaling. Actual practice was better than strategy meetings, because he didn't need to use the rusty parts of his brain, which corresponded to schoolwork.

He'd never be the brainy type. But that was okay with him, because he was good at all the things he was interested in.

Blowing at a lock of hair in his face, he relaxed.

"Maybe I should cut my hair off," he said to himself.

Moriyama offered his unnecessary input. "Good idea, Kise! Shave yourself bald so girls will avoid you and run into my arms!" He then proceeded to immerse himself into his own reality by hugging himself.

"Well, I wasn't thinking of going completely bald…summer is coming after all, and it's going to get really hot."

Ryouta noticed Kasamatsu reign in his temper, by the telltale twitch of his arm. Oh how he loved to poke fun at his captain.

"Senpai, do you think my fans will like my new hairstyle?"

"I don't care, go die!"

Ryouta grinned, knowing that it would rub Kasamatsu the wrong way and might punch him again. (The fact that he enjoyed it could mean that Ryouta had a slight masochistic streak that was yet to fully surface)

_Dum. DUMDUMDUMDUM-landslide-_

The sound of many books falling onto the ground was unexpected. Mikazuki slowly spun around to stare at him, her face horrified.

"Is there anything wrong, Mikazuki-san?"

"…Pardon my interruption and clumsiness, but I was just trying to control myself from crying once I imagined you bald."

She was a funny one. Ryouta reflexively had to check whether she was being serious, or sarcastic. And then either stop himself from laughing or feeling guilty for wanting to laugh at her.

Her permanent bed hair had become classic. Maybe if she had time to run a real brush through the brown shock of hair, she could look like everyone else. She had foam green eyes that were imitating a dead fish half the time, seeing how blank she was.

Mikazuki Terumi wasn't _ugly_. Just…perpetually scruffy. Yes, a little apathetic to her appearance at school, like she just rolled out of bed.

A little.

Also, a quirk of hers was that she was serious to the point of being an airhead. She had made a reputation for herself.

First day of school: she tripped over his desk and did this strange sliding thing, which messed up about six other desks. It looked like a mini tornado had ravaged the area. Then, there were the chemistry class shenanigans, which involved a really bad stench, Bunsen burners and failure to abide safety rules.

…And countless others to come, he predicted.

"So, Kise-kun please, do not cut your hair. I did a search on the Internet, and the majority vote was 'do not cut'. The net is very useful, especially Fuwa-fuwa, for all sorts of advice."

Just as he was about to reply, Moriyama perked up at the mention of—_something _that held his immense interest.

"Did you say…_Fuwa-fuwa_? Mikazuki, you consult the net too?"

"Yeah—I mean, sure I do senpai. I like visiting the friendship advice section, because I'm still not experienced enough for the love advice. It's an adult's world."

Ryouta: _LOL. _

It was hilarious, how she just admitted out loud, _so easily_ what a normal person would do secretly. By the look on her face, she didn't expect what she was saying either.

It was like a live comedy act, but the comedian didn't know they were doing a comedy act.

"ME TOO! Don't you love Rabu Samurai's articles?"

"What you read them too! I'm so glad that other people are interested in this stuff, now I'm not the only person now!"

He stayed quiet, eyes flickering between both people as they raved about some Internet thing that was lost on him. Ryouta was a highly perceptive person. He could literally see both Moriyama and Mikazuki's (skewed) wavelengths meet in the middle.

For example, pressing fast forward to this part of the conversation really showed their common ground.

"I haven't called a girl's name in two months!"

"Me too, I haven't called a boy's name that wasn't my brother's until high school!"

"My soul sister!"

"The brother I wished I had, you are my soul brother. I used to be a one man wolf pack, but now we are a two man wolf pack!"

"AWOOOOO!"

"WOOO-WOOOOOO!"

See? Both seriously needed a fast tracked course in social interaction.

"…I was in an all girls primary school and an all girls middle school. And then my idiot brother told my mum I was getting seriously weird and socially stunted, so she made me go for Kaijou instead of some ladies only school. Like, who _does_ that?"

_Your brother, obviously._ He would like to meet that guy someday, to see if Mikazuki was an example of a recessive gene resurfacing or whether it ran in the family.

…He was somehow getting a bit meaner. Must be the Kasamatsu influence.

"Ladies only sounds _nice_. A garden of flowering maidens!" Moriyama threw his hands up in a strange gesture of acceptance.

What Mikazuki said next caused another uncomfortable silence, even making the rest break out of their strategy talk/analysis to stare.

"Not all of them were maidens, senpai." Terumi scratched her head in thought. "If it were a garden, there would be a few flowers, lots of weeds and some wilted flowers past their used-by date—"

"_Okay_, Mikazuki-san!" Ryouta skilfully interrupted, trying to help. "Do you need any help sorting out the stuff here?"

She seemed to unknowing sidestep his emergency aid.

"I finished an hour ago. I just didn't know if I should leave or not."

Five pairs of eyes were trained on her.

Ryouta retreated. "Oh. Okay."

For the first time in his life, he didn't have anything to say.

.

"I'm back, everyone."

Sullen looks from everyone.

Terumi scowled. "Can I go _now_?"

Takeuchi Genta scowled back.

"No."

This was worse than detention.

.

.

.

1 NEW MESSAGE:

_Ya-hello!_

_Riko-tan wants Terumin to tell Kaijou's basketball coach that Tora's darling daughter wants a practice game, because he's not answering the cute and wonderful Riko-tan's calls!_

_If you don't tell him, I'll _Boston Crab_ you._

_Teehee!_

* * *

**つづく**

* * *

**end notes**

_And Terumi finds herself a soul brother._

_I laugh to myself as I type. It gets creepy, because I'm laughing at my own jokes. The other reason is because I listen to hilarious songs such as Valentine Kiss (Gintama seiyuu and Hyuuga/Aomine) and Renai Circulation (sung by our favourite Izaya). _

_Thank you for all your thoughts! I am looking forward to Terumi's failures and her interaction with Kise. I just need to keep creating situations where they'd meet and get to know each other better. Now, please enjoy!_

_Much Love,_

_**Tollpatsch**_


	3. Stalking Tendencies

**Narcissus**

_by Tollpatsch_

* * *

**Three: Stalking Tendencies**

_7.30pm_

Sensei, I know that life hard on you, but you need to reply to my emails. I've already sent thirteen.

_8.29pm_

Answer any year now.

_8.47pm_

Just answer me, and I'll stop bothering you. I really like my sleep.

_9.11pm_

Riko's dad has a shotgun. He might use it on me.

_9.55pm_

The orange balls need to bounce between two forces. Our school needs the exercise, think of it as a team building exercise where the players sweat it out together in challenging, refreshing basketball games and build a budding bromantic relationship that may or may not blossom into man on man action.

_10.22pm_

I might die if you don't reply.

_10.23pm_

REPLY!

_10.24pm_

REPLY

_10.24pm_

REPLY

_10.25pm_

REPLY

_10.26pm_

I think I've gotten fat.

_10.27pm_

REPLY.

_10.27pm_

Are you ignoring me?

_10.27pm_

This makes me sad. I'm gonna cry.

_10.27pm_

Am I actually imagining it?

_10.28pm_

REPLY. S.O.S.

_10.29pm_

ICE CREAM BUTT CHEEKS

_10.31pm_

REPLY

_12.05am_

I just watched some episodes of my favourite soap opera, and I'm really sad now. Sasa's mother was actually her aunt, who had naughty relations with many fabulous men. I know I should be studying whatever, but I needed to get this off my chest.

_2.05am_

Why do I exist?

_3.21am_

You know, I think I am having an existential crisis.

_3.35am_

I want friends. I used to have friends but in high school, everyone's so different. Like, they're still idiots but different idiots, you know what I mean? You were young once, right, sensei? It's not you were born from a fat panda—no offence intended, but I'm sure your mother is a very nice person.

_3.38am_

Please don't be offended. You have very shiny skin. Very youthful, like an elastic band.

* * *

The evil glare Takeuchi shot at Terumi the next morning, and a grumbled 'I get it, already. Mikazuki, you look like living hell' was his way of saying 'I can't be bothered to reply to your annoying, clingy emails, so I'll take pity on you and get that practice game organised'.

Despite her disastrous appearance, Terumi had triumphed.

* * *

1 NEW MESSAGE:

_I got it done, washboard_

_._

_**I'm going to kill you.**_

.

Terumi folded her Japanese History quiz into a shameful origami crane (her Japanese ancestors would be turning in their family grave). She had every right to do whatever she wanted with her quiz.

Especially because it was a _surprise _quiz.

That demonic Takeuchi coughed into his hand to interrupt her.

"So, you failed," he droned as he leant back into his teacher's chair as they conducted the standard 'teacher giving student pep talk'. Neither party was more enthusiastic than the other. It was like a conversation between two stones to see which one could grow legs.

She grimaced. "Yeah. It really happened."

Geez, he didn't need to rub it in—she _knew._ The night before the 'surprise' quiz, she had been sending spam emails to him, to nag about some stupid basketball thing crazy-Riko wouldn't stop passive-aggressive threatening her to do for a whole night.

She hadn't slept properly for two nights when she did the quiz. So everything was justified.

"Well then." Takeuchi wrote something down in his teacher's log before shoving it back in his little shelf on his desk. He then pulled open the drawer on his left as lethargically as possible, taking some papers out. He sighed, as if her very presence was draining and depressing.

"These are the study notes that relate to this quiz. Redo it in your own time."

"Yes, sensei."

She couldn't fault him for that, if Terumi were him she wouldn't want to talk to her either. Like, if she were someone else she wouldn't want to teach her either. She had a rebellious 'I-don't-give-a-mother' streak that was starting to surface…like late puberty or something. It was understandable.

Whatever, man. _I just want to go home. _

"Your grades are usually alright and this wasn't an official test, so I'll let you go this time," he frowned. "Don't spam my inbox ever again. One is _enough_."

"Many apologies, sensei. _Shitsure shimasu_."

He waved his hand towards the door in a shooing motion. She dashed towards the exit of the teacher's office (hell).

…and fell flat on her face.

"I fink I boke my nosh."

"…You need to get up before you drip more blood on my carpet."

* * *

All her failures aside, she had a bad feeling about this. It was a serious unsettling of her stomach and her brain just _knew_ it would escalate like a family catfight in an elevator.

"Isn't this a crime?" she questioned the instigator of this madness. He chortled to himself before removing the binoculars from his eyes. He didn't even need binoculars on this busy Shibuya street—but whatever tickled his peach, she wouldn't judge his preferences,

Comrade Moriyama shook his head with that silly smile on his face. "You are naive, soul sister. This is merely concern for an underclassman."

She stared at him.

He soldiered on. "It's like how a guardian ghost follows its shaman on his journey to become the shaman king."

"No one needs that kind of concern," she remarked snidely.

Guardian Ghost Moriyama pretended to swoon. "Your sharp words wound me so!"

They froze and quickly hid behind a brick wall when the subject of observation seemed to _look right at them_. That golden gaze was terrifying.

"Oh shit," Ghost Stalker Moriyama whispered to her.

Terumi muttered a botched Shinto prayer to save her from the Dragon Demon. Mustering all her courage, she peeked over the corner at the lovely back of Kise Ryouta—and some…_girls?_

"What?" Hunter Moriyama murmured. She must have said it aloud.

"Two blonde bombshells with-with…amazing legs."

"_Ooooh._" Pervy Moriyama leaned over her mussed head. "Beautiful ladies, but not my type."

She lightly pushed him off her back as they retreated behind the wall. "What! How could you not appreciate those amazing legs?" she hissed.

"I like a sexy nee-san, (Terumi: all men like tits and arse) but my type is more of an imouto-character, with a nice _handful_, and sweet round doe-like eyes, and long silky hair that would swish in the wind and a gentle, kind smile-not too tall, and she would be cute and can cook delicious food in a lace apron…and she would drink her water with a lemon slice in it."

Sweet baby Jeezles, could he be any more specific?

"Saints are fictional for a _reason_."

"You lie! She exists!" he insisted with surprising vigour. Girls must be his passion.

"How would you even _know_ by just looking at a girl? Do you have some kind of mental search engine?" she asked sceptically, trying not to incense him further because people were shooting them strange looks.

The problem was _him_, not her!

"Yes," he said seriously. "Destiny."

Sometimes, Comrade Moriyama was a bit bonkers. She needed to introduce reality to him. "That's a load of—"

"Hi, Moriyama-senpai…and Mikazuki! What are you two doing here?" a cheery voice broke into their conversation.

Terumi's ikemen-senses were tingling.

She avoided Kise Ryouta's gaze like the plague, feeling strangely guilty. "Nothing much. The usual: lives to destroy, people to stalk—"

Goal-keeper Moriyama jumped in with a quick save. "_We_ were on our way to chat up some cute girls."

Kise's smile was way too bright and sparkling. "And how was it going?"

Moriyama yelled a "Superbly!" just as she drawled "100% failure rate." It evoked an indignant gasp from the upperclassman as he leapt up, ego bruised almost beyond repair.

She met her soul brother's eyes casually. In that moment, a sudden revelation descended upon them like a heavenly verdict. They both knew.

This day hath descended upon them far too soon.

One of them had to be sacrificed for the other. And it wasn't going to be her.

Her thoughts raced for her ticket out of the interrogation.

_Run away and become one with the crowd! I have to run away!_

Her conscience, which had been asleep for the last year, suddenly awoke. _He's your friend, save him!_

In her moment of indecision where conscience grappled with normal thought in an epic battle, complete with an emotional orchestral soundtrack, she had lost.

Moriyama ran away.

She cursed his sudden absence as she was left alone with pretty-boy. It felt like his sparkling aura (typical of your extraordinary overachiever) drowned out her heart of darkness.

Ahem. She searched for an escape, _any_ escape to get her away from this…classmate who she didn't really know that well, and it would be awkward to keep intruding on his presence, and she really needed to pee.

"Ah, the nearest bathroom is in the shopping centre just across the road. Mikazuki?" The ever-helpful Kise lowered his perfectly balanced (between delicate and manly) hand that had been gesturing to said shopping centre. He tilted his head innocently in response to her silence.

Terumi didn't mean to say anything aloud. She wanted to hit herself. You don't just walk up to _the_ Kise Ryouta and tell him you needed to pee!

_That was just so…so…_

"Is there anything wrong?"

If it were anyone else, the sheer beauty of his very being would have blinded them and subsequently defy the laws of chemistry by melting human into goo through nothing but natural pheromones…but Terumi wasn't just anybody.

(She was partially blinded, but that's not relevant)

That Kise was _grinning_. He _knew_.

"Nope," she drawled. "Nothing."

He was _teasing_ her. The nerve of that Adonis! That unexpectedly playful side!

Damn it, even his _personality _was attractive. Didn't he have _any_ flaws she could magnify and exaggerate to make her feel better about herself?

His stare bore into her like a puppy starved for attention. Terumi gulped. "Well…since my Friday afternoon is ticking away, I should go and…erm, watch some soap opera reruns. Yeah. Um, see you never."

She tried to get away from him as fast as she could, but his hand shot out to gently nudge her back.

"I need to catch a train to Tokyo today, so I'll walk with you until we pass the station!" He beamed in the face of her misfortune.

That made two bastards.

* * *

**つづく**

* * *

**end notes**

_I've actually had this sitting in my computer for a few months now. Whoops. _

_Anyway, the three chapters snapshot-prologue-setting the scene are done! Next chapter will be filled with plot! On with the humour, embarrassing things and dare I say…romance progression?_

_This story will go slowly, as most of my stories do. Things shouldn't happen so fast unless it's an action fic…and I do not have the skills to write action. _

_We will be seeing a long awaited reunion next chapter. And there'll be tears, violence and basketball games. _

_See you next time,_

_**Tollpatsch. **_


	4. Camel Clutch

**Narcissus**

_by Tollpatsch_

* * *

**Four: Camel Clutch**

It was only the second week of term, and Terumi already felt like a wilting plant that was dying a slow death. Photosynthesis was serious business. The different classes of people were like plants—some blooming wonderfully and others trodden, eaten and wilted.

She classed herself as the latter.

Lazily flipping through a fashion magazine she casually 'borrowed' from her mother—hey, it _was_ lying there on the coffee table, in the living room and that was no-man's land, free-for-all, and the take-it-and-run-don't-call-the-police area. Also, she was currently on a business trip, so the whole house was bandit country.

The woman had loads of magazines anyway. Ahem. She would return it someday, with some food stains from lunch probably. It's not like she had anyone to talk with during lunch, and doing homework during lunch was only acceptable if it was due next period, or she'd be forever branded as a total loser.

For now, her status was: 'total weirdo'—she hadn't fallen _that_ low to loser…yet.

Terumi had been higher up the social ladder back in middle school. But it was all-girls, sheltered…and it was _middle school_. Things _change._ This was high school. Kaijou: a school for both boys and girls and teenage hormones running wild.

She relished the taste of her chicken schnitzel sandwich (made from yesterday's leftovers). You could never go wrong with schnitzel.

_Schnitzel was the way. Schnitzel was life. _

Her sixth sense picked up a signal, and the previously heavenly schnitzel felt like rocks in her mouth. Something was coming. Something she could not handle at all.

She slowly averted her gaze from _his_ blinding presence. Kise Ryouta emanated this glittering aura and she could not looketh in his directioneth.

(Shakespearean probably didn't work like that, but she needed to roll with it.)

"What's up, Mikazuki?"

_Ugh. _Did she really have to deign someone legions above her in the hierarchy with a response? It was like a human talking to a monkey.

She grunted an intelligible answer—eerily similar to the call of a wild ape crossed with a chimpanzee.

"Sorry. I can't understand you—can you repeat it?"

(She made the mistake of looking up, and was subsequently hit with the full force of a holy presence.)

This being her first conversation with _the_ Kise Ryouta in public—and therefore under the scrutinizing public eye, of course she would be apprehensive and see it as a form of bullying.

"…Never mind. Can I help you?" she grumbled as she stared down at her desk, the magazine now in Kise's hands as he thoughtfully looked through it.

She had a bad feeling about this.

"Hmm. Yeah" – he began distractedly – "I never thought you would read these…isn't this targeted at office ladies?"

Terumi nodded. "My mum."

His face alighted with understanding. "She must be really stylish. Pretty different from your image, isn't it?"

Many things came at once. Firstly, naturally beautiful people just didn't understand the feelings of the commoners and therefore could say some shattering things.

For someone thick-skinned like Terumi—who would have to actually take care of herself properly to look acceptable…it was just too much effort despite the social cost and a cloak of invisibility where she just didn't really exist in other people's eyes.

Secondly, and most importantly…

She cupped her ear exaggeratedly. "Kise…you…like-have a thing for the older ladies?"

(Maybe she wanted to get back at him for all the veiled sarcastic remarks. Just a little bit.)

He froze. "Huh?"

All the females in the classroom who were twittering about aimlessly suddenly stopped to listen in, their stares piercing like fierce huntresses looking for prey.

Terumi gasped, realization dawning. "I've discovered something unexpected…er…Kise, um, I know that you're currently a minor—and that shouldn't be a problem but, you know, I understand you. You hear me? I…_understand_ you."

He looked taken aback. Taking his silence as permission to keep talking, she soldiered on.

This was side of Kise Ryouta that she could empathise with. "Sexy older ladies are great. Sugar-mamas are even better—like, you know"—she lowered her voice conspiratorially, but her voice could still be heard throughout the whole classroom –"Some fine wines are better…_aged_."

"_What?" _

"…You know, practice makes perfect, more experience, you've got to pop that cap at the right time. Sometimes, a different _angle_ is all you need." She nodded to herself sagely—those traumatising conversations with her stupid brother had finally reaped some results and she was handing out advice like how Opr*h handed out gifts.

Don't mess with the Winfr*y.

Kise shook his head robotically. "No, no-no-no—you're totally _wrong_—I mean, older ladies—wait I'm off track here what are you _talking about_…"

"Sometimes it's possible to get it wrong, but you should discuss with the sugar-mama properly about position—"

"_Not that!" _– he coughed, gathering his wits and composure – "I just wanted to borrow your notes from yesterday afternoon. I kind-of skipped class."

She raised an eyebrow.

"…I just wanted to see Kurokocchi," he answered sheepishly.

She stared at him. "Oh. I see," –she rummaged through her bag, pulling out her exercise book – "Here. Modern Japanese and World History stuff."

"…Thanks."

"You're welcome. If you need to talk about your…_sugar_ intake…" she trailed off suggestively.

He smiled. "That's totally untrue. Mikazuki, I don't know how much Senpai told you but I'm not…like _that_."

She raised her eyebrows. "Like _that_?"

Kise nodded seriously. "_That_. Really. Not that."

"That or _that?_ Like…what?"

He nodded again. "Yeah. That. Wait—_what?"_

"What?"

He laughed suddenly, realising that she had no sense of subtlety at all. "Don't worry about it."

Her eyebrows rose higher and higher. "…_It?" _she exclaimed.

This was unprecedented—she never knew _Kise Ryouta_ of all people, would think about tentacle po—

Some people were naturally advanced. In all aspects. All. Wait. Since when did the conversation take such a sharp left turn and leap dimensions?

A hand on her shoulder derailed her train of thought. "You need to stop thinking, Mikazuki. I have no idea what we're talking about now."

"Me neither."

"Yeah. Thanks for the notes. End of conversation?"

"Right."

"Okay then."

"Yup."

And that was just the start of the enlightening and confusing conversations she would have with him.

* * *

1 NEW MESSAGE

From: Riko

Today 3:21pm

_I'm coming to your school today. _

* * *

Today 3:30pm

_Come at me, hoe. _凸(皿)凸

* * *

From: Riko

Today 3:21pm

٩(╬ʘ益ʘ╬)۶

* * *

Today 3:30pm

_Actually, please have mercy on me Riko-sama. _○|￣|＿ ._ Very sorry. Please don't use any of your wrestling moves on me. I might die. Seriously, I might actually die._

* * *

From: Riko

Today 3:48pm

_No._

_Now, where are you hiding? Let's play peek-a-boo, _okay? Teehee! ( ͡^ ͜ʖ ͡^ )

* * *

Today 3:51pm

_NOT THE LENNY FACE NO I'M SORRY PLZ FORGIVE ME. I'M REPENTING FOR MY SINS RIKO-CHAMA—_

.

.

.

The classroom had an aura of excitement. The chattering of the girls was obvious even to a social retard like Terumi, and she had no idea why.

"I want to go to the gym now."

"…Awww-I have cleaning duty. I'll be late."

"…You should switch with someone."

"So exciting! I want to give him my towel."

"Good idea."

Catching pieces of conversation, she still had no idea what they were squealing about. She wrung out the dirty cloth into the bucket, slightly grossed out by how dark the water was. Well, she did wipe the windows like a boss. There was something about the sparkling glass that tickled her peach, and she felt accomplished.

Well, even though she somehow did Kise Ryouta's cleaning duties. Oh well. She was a Saint, then. Saint Terumi had a nice ring.

"Mikazuki-san?" a girl walked up to her, eyes hopeful. "Can you switch cleaning duty with me? I have…um, something important to do."

She eyed her cake-face (did this chick not know make-up was to be used in moderation?), her messy uniform obviously ruffled on purpose, and the lack of cleaning tools in her hands. Not a team player in afternoon cleaning.

This girl didn't want to clean like a boss.

Hence, she was met with a blank, unsympathetic face. Terumi slowly got up to her feet, the bucket of water in her tight, boss-like-cleaner's grip.

"Sorry, Watanabe-san. I have club activities after."

"Oh," she says, pouting her glossy lips. She still hung around though, as if reluctant to leave without getting what she wanted. "Wait. I'm Fuji, not Watanabe."

Terumi shrugged, trying to look apologetic but failing miserably and instead looking constipated. "My bad, Yamada-san."

And she exited the girl talk like a boss, nodding to the other members of Fukiji's clique.

"Tokugawa-san, Sakata-san, Kurosaki-san."

"_What? Tokugawa's a history dude!_"

"My name's Ueno."

"And mine's Kurosawa. You were close, Mikazuki."

But Terumi was already gone, forever forgetting the names of those girls who didn't really matter and never actually talked to her and acknowledged her presence. Meh.

Her club activities were important. It was life changing, healing, and a step closer towards enlightenment. It taught her the secrets of the world, the way of immortality and the equation of the universe.

Club activities were life.

.

.

.

The daggy tracksuit. _Check._

Rubber boots. A faded baseball cap that her brother didn't wear anymore. _Check._

Sunglasses. _Check._

Determination. _Check._

Terumi lifted the watering can up, giving nourishment to her the beautiful plants with style. Well, they weren't beautiful yet because most of them were still seeds. But she was sure that they would all grow up to be beautiful plants (she'd forgotten was written on the packets, so the plant species was unknown).

All of them shall be wonderful. You can't ask a parent which of their children was the best or the most beautiful in the land, after all.

That would make things awkward. She would know. She once asked her mother which of her children was better when she was a naïve child deceived that her mother was actually Ultraman. And her mum said, with no hesitation: _You and your brother are both idiots, just like your father. _

She'd accepted, because if she answered that her brother was better then that would have created a rift, a huge crack in their relationship the size of the Grand Canyon that was Horikita Mai's cleavage because there was no way they were real.

Footsteps approached her again. Man, it was probably someone who was lost.

"Oh yeah…so you need directions?" Getting to her feet slowly, she brushed the dirt off her pants. Then she looked up.

No one was there. So she looked down, into the face of the human personification of terror.

Terumi paled. "Riko."

The Terror just smiled sweetly. "Hiya, Terumin!"

A short silence ensued, which she used to mutter her last prayers and watch a mental montage of the greatest moments of her life so far.

Watching pigeons die, flashing strangers her underwear, talking to boys…

"_CAMEL CLUTCH!" _ That was all the warning she got before Aida Riko pounced on her with the power of a Pro-Wrestler.

She was face down on the ground, humiliated by those Hands of Death pulled her back up as the Reaper sat on her lower back and forced her to hand her soul over on a silver platter.

"Have…mercy," she moaned, playing it up for the sudden audience according to the many exclamations of horror at her poor, abused body.

"R-riko!"

"Coach is killing someone already!"

"What the hell are you doing…er…Coach."

"Kagami don't just tack 'Coach' on at the end, idiot."

Well. The last two weren't really screams of extreme fear, but that group of people were most likely that Terrible, Flat-chested, Menace's minions.

She was dying.

"I'm sorry! Have—have…mercy!"—She could feel her spirit leaving her body and ascending so her parting words would have to be quick—"You're not flat chested and-and-um-um-um _the hoe to my trowel!"_

Terumi glimpsed the Menace's blood-curdling grin. "_What_. Did. You. Say."

The life was leaving her body. Her neck was starting to ache. Her back was sore. Riko was really heavy—

"I'll…die," she hissed out frantically as the Menace pushed her to breaking point.

And Terumi broke.

.

.

.

"This is Mikazuki Terumi, an old friend," The ever lovely, ever kind and gentle, Aida Riko introduced the gangly corpse of what looked like was once a human.

"She _was_ an old friend," Hyuuga Junpei remarked under his breath, shivers running down his spine. The Camel Clutch was a move he'd never seen Riko use before. It was a terrifying new addition to her collection of Pro-Wrestling moves.

"This guy wearing glasses is the Captain, Hyuuga Junpei-kun." Riko's sugary voice made the corpse flinch. Its eyes met his, the dead-fish look diminishing for a moment.

Terumi snorted. Riko had shown her pictures of the basketball club members and the photos from their past that should be buried…in the past. Lest they die from embarrassment.

_(If it was that idiot Kagami who did that, Junpei would have beat the respect into him—alas he didn't hit girls, so for that, Terumi was lucky.)_

"…And this is Izuki-kun, the guy with bad puns—" _I'm punny!, _the disappointingly handsome guy quipped, reminding her of Comrade Moriyama –"Mitobe-kun, Koganei-kun: jack-of-all-trades-but-master-of-none…First years like you: Tsuchida-kun, Furihata-kun, Kawahara-kun, Fukuda-kun…the wild, (stupid looking) one is Kagami-kun…and I don't really see Kuroko-kun anywhere. He'll appear sometime."

_What is he, a strange magical creature? _Terumi had enough sense to keep her sass to herself.

The rest of her Minions, the Seirin Boys Basketball Team, felt sympathy for the poor thing. However they couldn't defy The Dictator, and just nodded like obedient puppies. Hence, the most idiotic of the litter decided to express his condolences by clapping his hands together, almost praying for the dead.

"…You should light incense for that, Kagami-kun," a voice popped out from next to him, making both him and the corpse jump in surprise.

"W-woah Kuroko! Stop scaring me like that!"

Terumi's state of suspended death was scared away, the fear bringing life back into her. With great difficulty, she lifted her head off the ground. "Hey…I'm still alive."

"I can't help scaring you. I apologise, seeing you jump is a…little funny."

"So you were secretly twisted after all! Kuroko!"

"…By the way, Kagami-kun, your eyes seem even worse than usual." They were bloodshot and he had dark circles. He was in need of some eye drops, Terumi surmised. And maybe a few good nights of beauty sleep, but she was pretty sure that he wouldn't be some beautiful, graceful being as he slept.

"Shut up," – the gruff, (stupid looking) guy shot back tiredly –"I was too fired up, so I couldn't sleep."

"…Are you supposed to be a grade-schooler before a field trip?"

She was ignored like the dirt on the ground. Like the spilled bag of compost that she'll have to sweep up this afternoon. Well, at least she wasn't handling the worm farm when Riko tackled her. Those wriggly little guys were hard to get a hold of.

_Well, that rare-magical-creature guy is actually really sassy._

Terumi sighed as she revived herself, standing up with the difficulty of a ninety-year old man. Why was human interaction and conversation so hard for her?

Shuffling close to Riko, who seemed to no longer have the urge to murder her slowly, she realised too late that her skills of judgement were still as dodgy as ever. The Menace smiled at her. It was scary, that her heart almost stopped beating altogether.

"Hi. Riko. First gym for basketball today,"—she waved vaguely in the direction she came from, near the First Gym –"Somewhere there."

"Take us there, then, pretty please—_ehe_," Riko delivered her Death Sentence with a disgustingly sweet pose. It was gross.

Terumi's insides twisted from the fact that she might have to spend more time in Riko's menacing presence. She was traumatised, after all. That appointment to the psychologist was sorely needed but she wasn't sure her health care included 'questionable mental trauma'. She needed to ask her psycho-mother on the nitty-gritty details.

Luckily, a Miracle approached them.

"There's no need for that."

She felt her insides stop twisting and writhing in despair. "…Kise." This guy skipped out on class cleaning today. Why she knew…was because it was her who picked up his slack. Being devilishly handsome or angel-faced couldn't get him out of this one.

Ryouta acknowledged her existence distractedly. "Hey, Mikazuki," – his apathetic countenance toppled over one-eighty degrees once he saw Tetsuya and Taiga and he broke out a wide, friendly smile –"Hi! Kurokocchi and his team…I'll be counting on you guys today!"

"_Kise!" _a chorus of Riko's Minions sounded, drowning out Terumi's soft: 'You tool…I had to clean up _your_ mess—oh whatever no one's listening to me.'

"…Since this place is so big, I came to greet you."

_And _the one_ who wiped the windows, like a total boss gets a half-assed, half-baked, barely-cooked-two-minute-noodles-which-haven't-even-lost-its-shape two words of greeting? _

Well. Terumi wasn't one for saying absolutely everything on her mind.

_Ugh. You get away with so much. _

So, seeing the opportunity for escape from Riko's evil clutches, she took it. Terumi took off like a speeding rocket with the stealth of a middle-aged ninja past their prime.

.

.

.

_I hope you lose the match and you cry, you sissy basketball player. _

.

.

.

As she watered her lovely unknown species of plant, she watched a student from another school walk past the first gymnasium, stop, and then walk back the other way whilst passing her by. In some weird way, he was walking in circles.

In her Gardening Mode, she creepily stared at him, silently laughing at how dumb he looked with that frog toy held carefully in his hands. That glasses boy was handling it like a national treasure.

Wise Sage Mode took over once he passed by her for the ninth time. "Excuse me. Young man. Are you lost?"

It was like a scene from Dragon-Ball. Though she didn't know where the Balls were.

He stopped trotting around to address her. "I am not lost-_nodayo_."

Terumi shrugged off all his obvious body language signs of: _don't talk to me_, also graciously ignoring whatever speech defect he had and continued the conversation like a mature human being. "You look like you're looking for someplace."

The Lost student made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a derisive: _'Hmph!'_

"You look like you're looking for someplace," she repeated.

"I heard you the first time_-nodayo_."

She rested her chin on her fist in that classic _I-think-therefore-I-am_ pose, just on an invisible chair. Though she was no Descartes, she could still pretend to be sagely and dismiss the fact that her thighs were trembling from the pose.

"…You look like—er…looking you're someplace for."

He was Unimpressed. "Rearranging the words doesn't make any sense."

She crossed her arms thoughtfully. "You look like you're looking for someplace."

"…Repeating yourself doesn't rectify—"

"So you _are _lost." this conversation was going nowhere.

"I am not lost," he insisted. "I shall leave now, because I know where I am going to: the gym where the basketball team plays."

_Um…Okay. You do that. _

He just stared at her, as if expecting her to say something. Well, she did have lots of trivia facts for everyday conversation.

…But his glaring face, which he was probably born with _(He was born glaring, darn it)_ didn't exactly inspire her to prolong whatever stilted exchange this was.

"Um,"—her left eye twitched unconsciously, as she raised a hand to point at the huge building behind him –"There's a match happening right there."

"Understood," was the terse reply.

He left—kind of scornfully, like she owed him billions of dollars, his mortgage, his wife, his Dragon Balls and his firstborn son.

Alright. Back to gardening. She needed to mix the compost for the worm farm.

.

.

.

Upon giving a strange student from another school directions to the gym, and the hype created by her ditzy female classmates…Terumi became a bit curious. So she peeked inside with the worst timing.

Kise Ryouta looked flabbergasted. And he was crying. That sissy.

She closed the door to the gym silently. "I shouldn't have seen that."

_Why does he cry so beautifully? I have a continuous waterfall of snot whenever I watch Tit*nic…_

Well. She kind of felt bad for cursing him with her evil voodoo magic. And she was afraid that Karma would come and bite her in the behind because Fate and Destiny and all that shindig was Comrade, brother-in-arms Moriyama's monologue that she knew by heart from all the times she's heard it.

She looked down at the project she'd been working on for the past week. Maybe she can give him a consolation prize. There were containers in the Gardening Shed, and the soil quality was good enough for the earthworms to survive.

_Kise should be grateful. I'm giving him a mini eco-system. This is a gift of life. _

* * *

After accosting him at the gates as he came running back with a silly grin on his radiant face, she handed him the covered container. It even had breathing holes.

"What's this? You're confessing to me already?" he asked her, tilting his head cutely. It wasn't as gross as Riko doing the same thing.

By habit, she wrinkled her nose in the universal gesture of disgust. She couldn't help it—her reaction to anything remotely cute and adorable was an urge to vomit.

"…I guess not," he replied wryly.

She nodded. "You lost."

"Don't rub it in! It's still a sore wound-_ssu!_"

Terumi continued, ignoring his whining. Somehow the shriller tone of his voice reminded her of Riko, and again, that _urge _came back.

_("Why are you looking at me like I'm no better than the weeds on the side of the road? You're becoming really mean—")_

"…So, as a gesture of goodwill according to Comrade Moriyama, even though I took over your cleaning this afternoon and I don't owe you anything…and er…so…I am a Saint, I'm giving this to you as a consolation gift."

He blinked his bright eyes.

"Open it." He complied.

And then he screamed. This was the first time that he cried twice in the same day.

* * *

**つづく**

* * *

**end notes**

_Terumi is definitely an EXILE fan. LOL. She is a big shounen manga fan, and she likes to watch cheesy, trashy television in her free time. She would probably like The Bachelor. _

_Don't you just love innuendos? Terumi has an older brother, so she automatically jumps to those dirty, filthy conclusions. If Kise saw even a snippet of what goes on in her brain, he would be scarred for life. _

_I'm so glad people are laughing whilst reading this story; the point of it is to brighten people's days! _

_Well, I apologise if I haven't been responding to the reviews. BUT. Recommendation-wise, I don't really read much Kuroko no Basuke fanfiction…but 'Liar, Liar' by __**YokohamaBean**__**s** and anything by __**juungi**__ is a go from me!_

_Google 'Camel Clutch' if you don't know what position it is. LOL._

_**Tollpatsch.**_


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